North’s POV

The mansion was too quiet without Johan.

I waited ten minutes after he left—listening to the soft echo of his boots down the stone corridor, the distant rumble of the main door closing behind him—before I slipped out of the room.

I told myself I wasn’t snooping. I wasn’t running again.

I just… needed air.

The silence inside these halls felt louder than it should. Every painting-lined wall, every red and black banner, every polished surface seemed to stare back at me. Watching. Waiting.

I wandered without much thought, following shafts of morning light as they cut across the marble floors. My feet led me past heavy oak doors and quiet corridors, deeper into the estate than I’d ever dared to explore.

And then I saw it.

A cracked-open glass door at the end of a hallway, sunlight spilling through like water.

A garden.

It pulled at me like gravity.

I stepped outside, blinking at the warmth.

The scent of wild rosemary and turned soil hit me first—earthy and fresh, carried on the breeze. The garden stretched behind the house like a hidden sanctuary, walled in by tall hedges and shielded by ancient trees. Stone paths curved between thick flowerbeds, and in the far corner, a low wooden fence surrounded what looked like a small nursery patch.

Then I heard it.

Tiny yips. Soft growls. Paws scrabbling against grass.

I turned the corner and froze.

Pups.

Six of them.

Barely old enough to shift. Their coats were downy, more fluff than fur—tawny, black, russet, and pale grey tumbling over each other in a chaotic heap. A caretaker omega sat nearby on a patch of grass, watching them with a sleepy smile and a well-practiced eye.

I didn’t mean to move closer.

But something in my chest ached.

The kind of ache I didn’t recognize. Gentle. Warm. Foreign.

One of the pups looked up at me—its eyes still changing from blue to gold—and yipped with excitement before stumbling over its own feet to reach the fence.

I knelt automatically, crouching in the grass just outside the boundary.

The pup shoved its snout through the slats, sniffing wildly before licking my fingers.

A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it—quiet, stunned.

The other pups noticed me then. All at once, a chorus of tiny whines and happy squeaks rose as they scrambled toward me, pressing their faces to the fence, tails wagging so hard their whole bodies rocked.

They weren’t scared of me.

They didn’t look at me like I was strange or dangerous.

They just… wanted me.

Like I belonged here.

Something bloomed in my chest.

And it terrified me.

But also—gods help me—it felt good.

I stayed there for a long moment, letting one of the tiny wolves nibble on my sleeve, another pawing at my hand, a third trying to crawl through the slats entirely.

I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were close.

“Omega instincts kicking in already?”

I turned sharply.

Three figures stood on the garden path a few feet away.

Phoon. Dao. Easter.

The omega trio.

All of them staring at me with wide eyes and thinly veiled excitement, like they’d stumbled upon a rare animal and didn’t want to spook it.

“I—” I stood up quickly, brushing my hands on my pants. “I didn’t mean to— I was just walking.”

Dao practically bounced. “We knew you’d be cute.”

“Dao,” Phoon said under his breath, but his grin was unmistakable.

Easter took a step forward, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to startle you. We’ve just… been waiting to meet you properly.”

“You’ve already seen me,” I said, a little awkwardly.

“Yes,” Easter said with a soft laugh, “but you were hiding like a terrified kitten. This is the first time you’ve looked like you weren’t about to bolt.”

I blinked.

Dao tilted his head, smile softening. “You like pups?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ve never… been around any before.”

Phoon’s eyes sparkled. “You’re a natural.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I looked back toward the fence. One of the pups was still watching me, head tilted, ears perked.

They all were.

Something in their expressions—instinctive, wordless recognition—sent a chill down my spine.

“They think you’re their Luna already,” Easter said gently. “Even the little ones know.”

My throat tightened.

“I don’t know how to be that.”

Phoon stepped closer, his voice kind. “You don’t have to know yet. You’re already it. Just by being here. Just by caring.”

I didn’t answer.

The moment stretched, warm and uncertain.

Dao broke the tension with a grin. “Also—Johan’s going to lose his mind when he hears you left the room without him.”

Phoon rolled his eyes. “Don’t say that. You’ll make him hide North in a tower.”

“Wouldn’t be the first Alpha who tried,” Easter teased.

I managed a laugh. Small, but real.

Phoon beamed. “There it is. You do smile.”

I shook my head, stepping back toward the fence, letting the smallest pup lick my hand again.

And I whispered, mostly to myself, “They’re just so… soft.”

“You are too,” Dao said brightly.

I didn’t argue.

For the first time since I arrived, the mansion didn’t feel like a cage.

Just a place I didn’t understand yet.

But maybe—just maybe—it could become something more.